Thursday, November 10, 2016

Moving Forward

My m/c was three weeks ago today, and I am finding it easier to find joy in the daily things I used to, before this cycle began. I am celebrating the tiny things, like being able to exercise, have sex, not obsess about how an embryo is doing in or out of me every second, how each day is less and less a struggle to fit into my regular pants. I am also able to celebrate the infinitely great things, like playing with my kids, reading them books, snuggling with them. I cry a little bit when I admit to myself how hard these past months have been. And cry a lot when I think of what I have lost. But what I still have is admittedly so good, and it keeps me moving forward.

About Me

I am a woman who, despite best intentions, modern medicine, bad advice, and a whole lotta good old fashioned trying, cannot reproduce. I am the genetic mule. These are the stories of my quest for a baby, my denial that I want a baby, and every other thing in between. I have found the best ways to cope with this particular brand of tough stuff is by sharing the sadness and looking for the humor in infertility with fellow mules. Sarcasm, dark humor, occasional bitching, and of course frequent crying all seem to help me. One thing that I have particular trouble with is HOPE. I'll work on it.
But here is something sweet for those of you tough enough to handle some of the H word. I did a google search of "genetic mule" just before I published my first post to make sure no clever person had stolen my name before I got to it, and the only thing that came up was this:
http://www.eyeondna.com/2007/07/31/genetic-impossibility-female-mule-gives-birth-to-foal/
Read it and weep. I did. I guess there is hope even for a mule like me.